. . .n what it is to be hungry for twenty-four hours; and he is in a hurry—it's important business."

With that he stepped up to the entrance of the low white house, daring himself, as it were, to go any further, asked for some bread, which he paid for and began to devour at once, drank a good draught of water from the well-bucket, and then ran on as if the Tatars were at his heels, or as if he were afraid to trust himself any longer in such a dangerous neighbourhood.

No royal banquet could have been more delicious than that hunch of dry bread seemed to him, and something in the beggar boy's heart cheered him more than even the best Tokay would have done.

"Miska,[5] you're a man!" he said to himself. "I shall soon be in Visegrád, where I shall feast like a[Pg 24] lord. I don't know how it is, but I declare I feel better satisfied with this bit of bread than if I had eaten a whole yard of sausage."

[5] Short for Mihály = M. . . Read More